


Eddsworld Future Drabbles and Such

by orphan_account



Category: Eddsworld
Genre: Along with Purple Leader Matt, Blue Leader - Freeform, Blue Leader Tom, Depression Mentioned, Edd is totally the Green Leader of the Resistance, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Red Leader, Red leader Tord, Shipping, Violence, i mean he deserved it but wow, maybe some trigger warnings, probably, probably some tomtord, squint your brain, tord is really fucked up after the end jfc tom, what did you do to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I don't know what I'm doing blame KZDippingSauce...Eddsworld drabbles that take place in the future when everyone is all grown up and bickers all the time. Shipping, probably.





	1. Tales of Home and Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on that other project, but I wanted to write this. Blame KZDippingSauce.

**Defeat**

The battle was over. 

But nobody won. 

The war was done.

Bullets were fired, many lives lost. But the only four that mattered were all alone together. One was crumpled to the ground, his right arm, robotic and powerful, was falling apart, you could see the wires and the mechanics inside. He glared at the ground. One man stood behind him, surprised and confused and hurt and happy and scared. He was so scared. He wanted to help the crumpled man before him, but he was stuck to the ground. When did somebody glue his shoes to the floor? Another man stood in front of the two others, looking at the ground, his fists loosely clenched by his sides. He was breathing heavily. There was a man on the ground next to him, unconscious. He was covered him horrible wounds, his red hair stained with blood.

The man in front of the crippled, Edd, fell to his knees, and sighed heavily. His black trenchcoat made a swishing sound as he did so. He didn't look at the man bafore him, but instead, he simply said, "It's over," His voice shook with heavy emotions. See, this man has known all three of the men in the room with him for many, many years. Almost all his life, in fact. The man on the ground before him was the Red Leader, also known as one of Edd's best friends, Tord. Tord was an evil man, it seemed. He took over the world, and actually managed to rope another of his best friends, Tom, into working for him. But Edd refused to give up. He was as stubborn as a mule, and angrier than a hornet, but he didn't show any of those emotions, now. Instead, after defeating his old friend, he just felt sad. He felt empty, and confused, and scared, and hurt. He wanted to be happy with his three friends again. He wanted to be young and stupid and naive, and most of all, he wanted his friends back. He never would have thought, not in a million years could he have ever thought, that his life would turn out this way. But it did, and boy, does it hurt like a bitch. 

"Tord, please," Edd said. He noticed how the other man's breathing hitched at the mention of his true name. "Just come home." Tord didn't say a word. He sat there, soaking in his defeat like a sponge, and thinking about how this could have gone so much better. "Aren't you tired of fighting?" Edd looked at his friend. He took the time to notice how the stress of his job had aged him. He had grey streaks of hair, and he could see wrinkles, too. Edd felt he must have looked similar; leading the resistance was harder than it seemed. 

Tom spoke up. 

"R-Red Leader, sir," he stuttered in a careful, quiet voice. Tord still didn't talk. Tom didn't continue what he was saying because he didn't know what else to say. Tom's throat was dry, and his voice was raspy. His breaths were shallow, and his hands shook wildly.  It had been almost  six years to the day that Tom had quit drinking, and never in his entire life had he ever wanted a drink more than right now. He unconsciously reached for a flask that wasn't there in a hoody he wasn't wearing. Tom blinked his digital eyes, and swallowed thickly. If he still had properly working tear-ducts, he would have been on the verge of bursting into tears right now. 

It was quiet, and the silence was deafening. 

Tord had been defeated. Tom didn't know who's side he was on, and he was too scared to stand with either of the availible options, so he just stood alone, on the sidelines. Edd defeated Tord, but he didn't need feel like he won. In fact, he felt like he just lost everything he cared about, again. He's lost so much in his life, and now he felt like he lost even more, somehow. 

"Kill me," A voice spoke. It was the voice of Tord, evidenced by the still ever-evident Norwegian accent. Edd shook with anger. "What?" He asked calmly, trying to make sure what he heard was correct. "Kill me." Tord stated again. Edd inhaled sharply. "You think that after all these years of chasing you, and fighting you, that I just wanted to kill you? Is that what you think?" Edd balled his hands into fists so harshly, his knuckles turned white. "What kind of person do you take me for?!" He yelled, and Tom flinched, while Tord stayed still. "All I ever wanted, was ny friends back! I never wanted this! I didn't want wars, and anger, and death and destruction!" Edd gestured around himself widly. "I never wanted Matt to get this hurt! I'm not even sure if he's going to live!" Tears pricked the corners of Edd's eyes as he gesticulated to the redhead on the ground. His breathing was shallow and it sounded more like wheezing to Edd. "I just wanted my friends back!" Edd was sobbing, now, his shoulders shaking, fat tears pouring down his face. "All I ever wanted was my friends," He looked down again, trying to grab onto the ground, and ball it up tightly in his fists, but ultimately failing. 

Tom was quiet as he performed his next action. So quiet in fact, that the only one who noticed him moving, was Tord, who barely looked up to see the man's leg. Tom kneeled in front of Edd, grasping his shoulders. Edd looked up at Tom, surprised. Tom smiled gently at Tom, and Edd knew. Tom was on his side, now. Edd hugged Tom tightly smiling and crying, and laughing. Tord, however, was in the background of the situation, his blue coat hanging loosely over his shoulders. He was jealous. But he knew the only way for him to be happy was to go back with Edd. But he had an army, now. He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't deserve anything. He didn't even deserve a privilege such as death. He deserved pain, much like the kind he was experiencing right now. He clenched his fists, and breathed in slowly. 

He didn't say a word. 

Tom helped Tord up, slinging his good arm around his shoulders, as Edd did the same for Matt, who was slowly beginning to wake up. 

The agreement was silent, and unspoken between all of them, but the were all friends, again. No one was a leader, no one was a follower, and everyone was hurt, but they wouldn't have had it any other way, at this point, because they were all together, again. This was a rough patch they had been going through for many years, and they had finally gotten through it. It was over. 

It was finally over. 


	2. A Monumental Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2042.  
> Tord is the leader of an army.   
> Edd is a general for that army.  
> Matt is a spy for that army.  
> Tom is the size of the base for that army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk really. Just popped into my head at two in the morning.   
> Something I finished by three thirty while watching supernatural please don't hate me ;-;

**A monumental Issue**

Soldiers were training in the afternoon rain.

Tord could hear their chanting from inside his office inside the base. It was a rather calm day. Tord didn't want to do any paperwork, and decided to ignore it until tomorrow, or until Paul and Patryk came into his office, demanding that he finally get his paperwork done. Tord sighed and rolled his chair over to the window, pushing back the curtains,  light shade of red, so he could gaze at the cloudy day outside. Tord loved cloudy days, he loved the rain, the sound of thunder, the droplets of water pitter-pattering onto the glass of the window. Tord rested his robotic hand onto the window sill, and rested his chin in it, somewhat enjoying the feeling of the cool metal against his cheek. He didn't smile, but he sighed in content. 

Suddenly, frantic pounding forced itself onto the wooden door to Tord's study. Tord growled, and yelled, "Enter!" Not looking from the window; it was probably Paul and Patryk, and he was already preparing himself for a lecture on not doing paperwork and such. "Sir, there seems to be a giant purple creature sitting outside the base!" Tord actually looked up from the view on the window and his horrid reflection, to glare at the soldier who interrupted his silent enjoyment with surprise. It was a soldier by the name of Samuel, if his name tag was anything too go by. He had nearly shoulder length brown hair and had the literal dimensions of a slice of pie. His head nearly touched the top of the door frame. "Excuse me?" Tord asked. "We have a monumental problem, and it seems to be that giant monster sitting outside the base!" Samuel pointed to the only window in the room that had it's curtains pushed back, not that Tord could see anything past the giant piece of leathery, purple scales planted in front of it. Tord gasped. "Tom, really? Again?!" The purple flesh did not respond, and Tord huffed. He growled, and sighed angrily. "I'll deal with it." Tord got up, pushing his chair back over to his desk, or at least attempting to. Tord's robotic arm twitched, or, violently jerked, rather, and sent the chair rolling halfway across the room. He growled, and Samuel, despite him towering over the Red Leader by at least one and a half feet, cowered away from his bosses wrath.

Tord's arm jerked one more time, a symptom of the new,   _better_ arm messing with some of the nerves in his shoulder, or something along those lines. It was just another thing that he had to live with, something that he wasn't just going to  _get over_ easily, if at all. At least, he knew this arm would take some getting used to. As Tord began thinking about his arm again, he rubbed at the place where his shoulder met with the metal, and the leftover muscle tensed up harshly at the pain. Tord walked over to his desk, opening a drawer, and pulled out some vicodin. It was highly advised that he didn't take any pain medication while he was working, and mainly saved it for when he was awake at night, nearly screaming and sweating from the pain in his shoulder. However, he knew that he would need the 'strength' he got from his high to pull him through this day because Tom seemed to be fully transformed on the base and he had to talk him down. Literally.

Tord walked outside of the base, ignoring the large crowd of people gathered around the giant, purple, dragon-like monster, (despite the lack of wings). They all chatted, and backed away every time he moved, but Tord seemed to be the only one who knew he was completely harmless. It wasn't often Tm couldn't handle his transformations to the point that he just changed on the base, but occasionally, it would happen, and the soldiers knew to come to Tord whenever it did. Despite being pretty harmless, (unless angered, that is), Tom in his monster form could still be pretty dangerous. For example, he could accidentally squish someone, Tord included, he could also accidentally run into the base, crushing a bunch of innocent people, and he was also just pretty damn unsettling. Though, Tord had to admit, it was pretty cool having a dinosaur on base, almost completely under his command. 

Tord looked at Tom, who had his single eye closed, and shouted, "Tom!" Trying to get his attention. Tom turned away, his snout pointed at the wall next to them instead. Sometimes, there was an emotional reason behind Tom's transformations. If he got angry enough, he could transform, or mainly if he felt a sudden burst of nearly any emotion he could transform. This time, Tom didn't seem to want to talk about it. "Tom!" Tord called again. Tom let out a low, huffy growl, and all the soldiers backed away again, nearly screaming. Tord turned to his soldiers. "Okay, go back inside, I'll deal with the monster." The soldiers, tired and wet, made their ways inside, talking amongst themselves about the monster outside their base. 

When the soldiers made their ways inside, Tord tried to get Tom's attention again, knowing that Tom never wanted to make his issues public; he was a pretty private guy, and had a terrible tendency to bottle things up inside. Even though Tord hated Tom with nearly every fiber in his being, he didn't want the poor guy to kill himself because he didn't know what to do with everything inside his head. After all, Tord knew what it was like to shove things down and lock them in a vault inside his head, trying to forget about them, and he knew just how unhealthy that was. Tord was also the epitome of complex feelings, and still, after all these years of knowing him, didn't know just how he felt about Tom. "Tom?" Tord tried a gentler voice, seeing if that would get him to open up more, maybe trust him. Tom turned away again, curling up into a ball and letting out a low whine, trying to get Tord to just go away. Tord knew that whine, he knew that it meant 'go away'. He also knew that whine meant, 'I'm bottling up my problems again, and sooner or later, I'll just turn back to alcohol to try and solve them'. Tord felt guilty because he was mainly the reason that Tom was here and he was the reason that he was hurting, in this kind of psychological pain that he didn't need to be in at the moment. "Tom, come on! I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong! My soldiers need to train here!" Tord made up an excuse so that it didn't sound like he cared for the drunk asshole. Tom whined again. This whine sounded like loud, creaking metal. It was strange, inhuman and ear-piercing. Good thing Tord could just turn off his hearing aid. He got that from the explosion, too. Deaf in one hear and only half in the other, but he still made it work. Besides, it was kind of useful, sometimes, despite the tinnitus. 

Tord was never good at comforting people, even at the age of fifty-two, when he has taken over nearly the whole world, sans half of America and all of Canada, but he definitely knew how to tell when something was wrong with someone, especially one of his worst enemies. "Tom? Are you okay?" Today, it seemed, that today was one of  _those_ days. These days were the days when Tom was thinking about days long gone, days that told of tales when he shot the harpoon, and fought diligently alongside Tord, knowing that his place was not leading an army, but fighting with one instead. Days where he curled up into a ball and thought about everything he ever did wrong, and the days where he sometimes, some _how_ cried for hours on end, not knowing what to do with his life. The nights following these days usually ha horrible night terrors, torturing him for small things, voices telling him irrational things, and when he woke up, he was screaming and sweating and gasping for air, tears in his eyes, and he was unable to see because his eyeglasses were on the nightstand next to him, turned off, and those were the nights where he didn't want to see what was in front of him because even without them, he always knew. Always after a night terror terrorized him, his friends stood in the doorway of his room, looking worried and scared. Matt would be the first to speak up, asking what was wrong, then Edd would walk over and comfort him with a hug from the front, Matt would coddle him from behind, and Tord would stare, not knowing what to do until Tom noticed his absence, and called him over to the party of comfort in front of him. Tom would spread his arms out in front of him wide, accepting Tord's weight on his torso as Tord pressed his face in Tom's chest, despite being bigger, and everyone would let out a sigh of content, and the night terrors would not come again that night. 

Tord hated the night terrors and the things they did to Tom. Tord knew night terrors, he had PTSD himself, and didn't want something like that to happen to someone with a vulnerable mind like Tom's. Tom, despite his muscle, give 'em Hell attitude and charisma, was really a delicate person. His mind was so broken, all it took was one word taken the wrong way, and his everything would shatter into a million pieces; he simply wouldn't be able to take it anymore, and his world was disappear from this horrible world forever. Tom was scared of that, he didn't want that to happen, but he knew that some day, it would, and he would take his own life. He didn't want it to happen, but he was being realistic, because, c'mon, Tom got into fights regularly, with Tord, other soldiers, strangers he met at a bar three minutes ago. One day, every one of his friends knew, this poor man would just walk off a cliff, fully knowing he had no wings to fly.

Tord did not want that day to be today, and as Edd said, 'one day at a time', so he stopped thinking about the future, and tried to take a step forward. He rested a hand on Tom's massive paw, and said in a gentle voice, "Tom? It's okay. Whatever it is, it'a alright." Tord smiled as Tom began un-tensing at Tord's calming words, his accent, now a strange mix of Dutch, British and Norwegian, was probably doing a lot of the comfort. Tord crawled under Tom's arm, or front leg, and found his face. He seemed more at ease, now than usual. Maybe it was because Tord never really doted on Tom often, but it helped him to relax from whatever was bothering him at the time, if just a little. Tord noticed that Tom began to shrink in size, his more human form beginning to take shape once more. 

When Tom was fully human again, he was completely naked, and bright red. He was built, even at the ripe old age of fifty, though he never seemed to get rid of that self consciousness. Tord removed his coat from his shoulders, and wrapped it around Tom, knowing this, though, it was not abnormal to find on soldier or another roaming the halls of the base naked, sober or not, and was, for some odd reason, more common with the Red Leader, than anyone else. It was a strange thing to be common, but was common nonetheless. Since Tom was short, and Tord was rather tall, (which made the fact that the soldier who notified him of the situation, Samuel, was taller than him made it even more surprising), the coat went down to about Tom's knees, the sleeves going well past his hands, and the collar taller than half of his face. Tord smiled somewhat at Tom, who didn't notice because he was too busy trying to cover himself up more, even though he had 'covered' pretty much the basics. Tord guided him inside, all the soldiers seemed to either go back to their bunks to rest, or went to the mess hall for lunch, barely noticing, if at all, the duo walking down the hall. Those that did saluted the two, and walked on their way to wherever. 

Neither Tom, nor Tord said a word on their way back to Tom thought was Tord's room, a room he had visited quite often in the past ten to fifteen years. 

Once they made it back to Tord's room, Tord began to grab some clothes for Tom, just some flannel pants that both of them knew wouldn't fit him, and a very large t-shirt with a cartoon rib-cage on it. Neither of them said a word as Tom undressed from the wet overcoat, and slowly clothed himself, and neither of them said a word as Tord did the same, with some grey sweatpants and a stark, white tank-top. 

Neither of them said a word as Tom curled up in Tord's bedsheets, and closed his eyes. 

Neither of them said a word as Tord came up from behind him, and grabbed him by the waist, pushing his nose into Tom's hair. 

"Are you doing alright?" Tord asked finally. Tom gave a minute nod. "I guess," He said. "It just hurts, sometimes." He sighed heavily. "Thinking," He clarified. As if that needed clarification, as both of them knew what he meant. "Everything hurts." Tord smiled. It was true. 

Though there were white hairs growing from both of their scalps, and crows feet stomping their way into the corners of their eyes, that didn't mean things didn't get hard for them, too, just because they were tough. Sometimes, you just need a little comfort, even if you rule nearly all the world alongside three other men; your closest friends of all time, plus your worst enemy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let's make these boys suffer @hushhushgalaxy.tumblr.com


End file.
